The elders do not know how to mend the barrier. We are defenseless and unprepared for the dangers of the outside world. Desna, Sarenrae . . . all of you, what have they done to us? What have we done to ourselves?
That is all my heart and mind have room for, but I shall try to relate the day . . . I do not know why. Posterity? I am not sure there will be any. I am not sure I shall survive to old age when I shall want to reread these words. I am not sure of anything. Even Desna seems out of reach.
Today . . . today started well enough. Des has forgiven me enough to let me walk with him. Not enough to trust me— but that is good, as I am not strong enough to be leaned upon.
There was discussion on how best to proceed given that immediate danger was gone and that we were considering breaking tradition regarding knowledge already held by the elders. It was decided that reporting was needed, however, as the danger could return at any moment.
I reflect back on the corpse which we disposed of safely. After I found that the elders use banishment, not for mere crimes, but also as a way to silence what should be heard, I was glad we found the poor man. Perhaps he was an evildoer. Or perhaps not. Perhaps he simply wanted what was best for Halefix.
Desmond and Talon both continually tested my resolve to stop mothering them and let them be men. I came close to keeping my resolve, which, when faced with the difficulty that presents in dealing with boys, is some small reason for pride. They think more of themselves than it is safe to. Not like Adoness and Storm, whose confidence in their abilities seems rock solid, but who still make efforts to act wisely and safely. (I will leave out the details of the things they said and did that make me say this. Honestly I would rather not reflect on such hubris in anyone I call friend— much less report specifics.)
We made it back to the city, we met with the elders, Adoness made the report— really an extension of an older report— and we stood with her, adding our testimony. They called us liars. (Lady Darellia did seem more open to the truth than the others. Desna save her.) To what end we should fabricate such, I do not know . . . but I do feel that their stand is one of fear and not malice. They want to believe we lie because if we speak truth we are all in grave, grave danger. We speak truth. We are all in grave, grave danger.
Willing, determined ignorance is one of the most deadly forces in the world. They threatened us . . . though, truthfully, Des and Kane made me want to threaten us, so I will try not to hold words spoken in anger against anyone.
Adoness is determined to check the barrier for more weak spots. I will go with her, of course, but privately, I feel anything we can do will be too little, too late. I feel doomed. Desna, make me wrong.